by Norah Wilson
“I can’t believe Arden is selling the place.”
“He’s doing it for me.” Titus’s words were low and gruff. “He knows how badly I’ve wanted to get away, how it’s eaten at me year after year. But if I leave, there’s no one else to run the place. Dad finally started coming around this past year or so, showing more interest in the farm again, but he’s too old now to run it by himself. Scott could never settle down to farming, and Ember’s a doctor, so that leaves me. But I just can’t stay. If I don’t go now, I’m afraid I never will.”
“I see.” And she did. She really did. His siblings got to go off and do what they wanted while he’d put his own needs on hold. He deserved this. But she hated the thought of him leaving. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You’re the first person I’ve told. Scott and Ember don’t even know yet. But I had to tell you, so you’d understand I have nothing to offer you. You deserve someone who can promise you tomorrow, and that’s not me.”
The words were like a knife to her heart. She drew a deep breath of rain- and smoke-scented air. Then she released it, breathing out the pain.
Pain. A deep emotion. She could use that. It proved she was alive, didn’t it?
So would making love with Titus. Yearning, lust, intimacy, ecstasy, fulfillment. If they made love, she’d have other memories to take away, not just this gnawing sense of loss without ever having had him to lose.
And seriously, what better way to rid herself of this fixation with him? He was a man like any other. Flesh and blood. Fallible. Nothing knocked a fantasy on its ass like a dose of reality. Maybe she could get him out of her system once and for all, before he walked out of her life…
Before she could second-guess her decision, she put her hands on his chest. “Then let’s make another deal. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but we’re here together right now. Let’s make something of it.”
“But—”
“Titus, I’m not looking for your tomorrows. Just this one night. Just right now. Make love to me like you mean it.” Beneath her palms, she felt his heart rate take a crazy leap.
For a second, she thought he might refuse, but then she felt the shudder that went through him and knew that she’d won.
“That I can do, sweetheart. And you won’t have any doubts that I mean it.”
Chapter 20
TITUS PULLED her into his arms. She went up on tiptoe, face upturned, angled for his kiss. His heart squeezed as he looked down at her. This gorgeous, smart, incredible woman wanted him.
He felt ten feet tall.
The luckiest bastard on the planet.
And yes, guilty as hell that he couldn’t offer her more.
A tinge of worry entered her eyes at his delay.
“Just savoring this, baby. You have no idea how enticing you look right now.”
Her lips parted and he bent and caught them in a searing kiss. She moaned into his mouth, and it was the sexiest thing. He growled and deepened the kiss, sinking his hands into her hair. God, how many times had he fantasized about that glorious, impossibly glossy hair spread across his pillow? Or trailing across his chest. Bunched up in his fists. If she only knew...
And why shouldn’t she know?
She’d confessed her own feelings so fearlessly. Couldn’t he be a fraction as brave? As honest?
He broke the kiss. She looked up at him, her eyes unfocused and already a little dazed with lust. He smiled. “I’m not usually so talkative in this kind of situation. Okay, in any situation. But I figure it’s only fair to warn you that I have a thing about your hair. I’ve fantasized about it. I want to feel it sliding over every inch of me.” He tugged gently on it. “I might even pull it.”
At that last bit, her chest rose on a sharp inhalation. “Is that a promise?”
“It is.” Because he couldn’t resist a moment longer, he drew her to him and kissed her again. Hard. She gave as good as she got, her arms stealing around his neck to pull him closer. When they broke the kiss this time, the harsh sound of their breathing filled the tiny cave.
“Let me make us a bed,” he said.
She looked around. “With what?”
“Grab our jackets.”
By the time he lifted the sleeping bag off the thin, self-filling air pad, she was back with their coats. Almost completely dry now and warm from the fire, they would make excellent although smoky padding. She was moving more easily today, but her muscles had to be...
He paused and looked up at her. “You sure you’re okay for this? I mean, after the fall...”
“I was okay for this last night,” she drawled. “But thank you for your concern. I took some ibuprofen earlier. Between that and the endorphins that are kicking in, we’re good to go.”
He grinned. “Good.” He went back to fixing their bed. When he stood and turned around, he saw she had started to remove her long-sleeved thermal top.
“Wait. Let me help.”
She let the garment fall back into place. “Only if I can help you.”
Already stripped to her underwear, she was way ahead of him. “Just give me a second to get these boots off.”
He bent to loosen the laces of his hiking boots, then toed them off. As soon as he’d kicked them away, she was right there, her fingers going to the front of his flannel shirt. They felt soft and fluttery as birds as she undid the buttons, and his excitement kicked up another level. She opened the shirt and pushed it down his arms. He helped by shaking one hand free. She tugged it the rest of the way off and dropped it to the ground.
He reached for the hem of her undershirt. She lifted her arms so he could more easily pull it off over her head. Her hair swung free, falling around her shoulders and breasts. He brushed a swath of it back behind her left shoulder and caught his breath. Jesus.
The gratifyingly sheer black bra she wore cupped her small breasts perfectly. And beneath the lace, her dusky nipples had tightened into hard buds.
“You are so beautiful.”
“So are you. Though I can’t wait to get your T-shirt off.” She smiled up at him. “You’re a little more ripped than you were the last time I saw you bare-chested.”
He snorted. “A little? The last time I ran around shirtless, I was a scrawny seventeen-year-old. I swore I’d never have that fish-belly white body and tanned arms like Dad.”
She laughed. “I remember that summer. I was still a little too young to appreciate the show.”
“Well, check this out.” He whipped the T-shirt off to reveal the sharp contrast between deeply tanned hands and forearms and paler shoulders and torso. “A farmer’s tan of my very own.”
Her eyes widened. “I have to say the tan lines aren’t what grab my attention.”
She lifted a hand to touch him and his breath stalled as her soft, warm hand landed on his abs. The muscles tightened under her touch, as did another part of his anatomy. Her other hand grazed his right side, then both skated up his chest to rest on his pecs.
“Damn, Titus.” Her breath tickled his chest. “I mean, these past few years, I saw the difference in you every time I came home. But this...” Her hands went to the points of his shoulders, then glided down his arms. “I’ve never seen a physique like this in the...um...flesh, so to speak.”
He couldn’t help himself; he flexed his biceps for her.
Her eyes rounded. “Whoa!”
He flexed his arms again, but this time to pull her close. She still wore her bra, but the contact of skin on skin was electric. From her indrawn gasp, she thought so too.
She pushed away. “Get the rest of those clothes off. I want to feel all of you against me.”
He’d had visions of stripping that lacy bra and form-fitting leggings off her himself, but this would be faster. Fast was good right now. He undid his belt and shucked his jeans. Then the two of them stood facing each other, wearing nothing but their socks. Her breasts were even lovelier now without the adornment of the lace, her nipples even harder and tighter.
&nbs
p; He held out his hand, and she went back into his arms for a searing kiss. It was all he could do not to groan into her mouth as she pressed herself close, trapping his erection between them. The soft press of her breasts sent his excitement spiraling. The longer they kissed, the more she surged against him. With a growl, he lifted her. Her legs scissored, wrapping around him.
He knelt and deposited her on the sleeping bag. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, as though afraid he wasn’t going to follow her down. Fat chance of that. He covered her slim, lithe body with his own, careful to support most of his weight with his arms.
Their mouths fused again, tongues tangling, seeking, tasting. Much as he hated to abandon her mouth, he had other territory to explore. Kissing his way downward past that determined chin, he lingered a moment on her delicate, sensitive neck, then slid further down to the swell of her right breast. Cupping it in his hand, he closed his lips over the hard nub and suckled it. She gasped and bucked beneath him as he licked and sucked and gently bit first one nipple, then the other.
Jesus. His cock was rock hard and ready. So ready.
But he needed to get to his backpack and retrieve a condom. He’d do that. He’d break away from her. He would.
In a minute.
He kissed his way down her abdomen, loving the way she sucked in her sweetly curved belly. He loved even more how her breathing grew harsher when his mouth traveled further south.
“Titus?”
“Just relax, baby. Let me do the work.”
He drew her legs up, urging her knees outward to make room for him to kneel between them. She acquiesced, but relaxed was the last thing she was. Her whole body was vibrating with tension.
He touched her folds, spreading them. His fingers invaded the slick wetness he found there, and the scent of her aroused sex enveloped him. He groaned. “You’re so beautiful.”
She made a strangled sound. Smiling, he bent and pressed his mouth to her swollen flesh. Her taste exploded on his senses. His cock jerked, needing to be inside her, but it would have to wait its turn. He wasn’t finished. She tasted so damned good.
As he licked and lapped and sucked, she squirmed and panted, reaching for her orgasm. When she started to thrust her hips in a silent plea for deliverance, he hooked one arm around a leg to anchor her, then put his free hand to work on her sex. Spreading, stroking, then finally penetrating her heat with two fingers. He felt her internal muscles tightening down on him immediately. She was right there on the edge. If he could just find...
He hooked his fingers slightly and thrust upward.
“Yesss.” Her body went taut as a bow and her fingers burrowed into his hair, holding him to her.
He flexed his fingers, stroking the spot again and again in a bumping rhythm.
“Yes, that. Oh, God, Titus, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
He didn’t. And for good measure, he took the tight nub of her arousal in his mouth and swirled his tongue over it. She started coming. And coming and coming. He kept it up while she rode the waves. Only when her hands fell away from his hair did he stop.
He rose up on his knees to look down at her and his heart fairly burst. Never had he seen such a gorgeous sight. The flush of orgasm darkened her neck and face, and her silky black hair spilled across the bedroll. Her chest still rose and fell quickly.
He eased her legs back down, then crawled up to lie beside her.
“That, Titus Standish, was incredible.” She pulled him close and kissed him. His erection bumped her hip. She reached for it, scooting over a bit to buy enough room for her hand to close around his shaft. “I should have asked before—do you have condoms?”
“I do, in my bag with the medical supplies.”
“Medical supplies?” She laughed. “Well, I guess this could be considered an emergency of sorts.” She stroked his rigidness, and he couldn’t figure out whether to tell her to stop or beg her not to. “Do you often have occasion to use condoms in the field?”
Her voice was still light, teasing, but he heard the note of seriousness beneath. “Never. But sweetheart, that pack goes wherever I go, in case I get called out. And inside a clean, waterproof bag seemed like a more favorable environment for them than my wallet.”
“Good point.” She arched against him. “Why don’t you fetch that bag right now?”
Yes, yes, yes.
“There’s no hurry,” he heard himself say. “You probably need some recovery time.”
“What I need,” she said, gliding a thumb over the sensitive tip of his penis, “is to have you inside me.”
He rolled away and grabbed his rucksack. In record time, he located the condoms. Another few seconds to open one and roll it onto his engorged cock. Then he was back at her side. He kissed her again, but her hands were on him, pulling him atop her. “I need you, Titus. Don’t make me wait.”
He needed no further urging. He moved over her, supporting himself with his arms. She reached between them, grasping his cock and guiding it to her entrance. He pushed into her tight heat, gritting his teeth against the pleasure, trying to take it slow.
“More.” She arched up to meet him.
With a groan of surrender, he thrust himself home. There was nothing to his world but the wet heat of her, the sound of flesh slapping flesh. Her sobs of delight, the broken words as she urged him to move faster, harder, deeper. He lost it then, driving himself into her with the reckless abandon she demanded. He could feel his orgasm building. Too soon. But there was no stopping it.
Then, incredibly, she came. Her internal muscles gripped him like a fist. With a shout of triumph, he pumped himself into her a few more times until his own orgasm ripped through him.
It took him a moment to realize he must be crushing her, but when he tried to move, her arms held him fast.
“Stay.”
Stay. The one thing he couldn’t do. He’d set his course. Set things in motion.
“Just for a minute,” she said, her voice soft in his ear. “Just until I pull all my pieces back together.”
That he could do. He needed to pull himself back together too.
Except he wasn’t altogether sure he still had all his pieces.
Chapter 21
AFTER HIS conversation with Titus, Scott decided to take his brother’s advice. He finished his book, then drove into town through the rain and blustery wind for a late supper. Instead of bothering Uncle Arden, who would insist on making a meal, he swung by the Ruby Slipper Pub for a strip loin and baked potato. He’d intended to go see his uncle afterward, but he wound up bumping into friends he hadn’t seen in a couple of years. After catching up with them, he figured the hour was too late to bother Arden.
He’d driven back to the parking lot, reclined the seat and dozed fitfully for a few hours. The storm buffeted the truck, but that wasn’t why he kept waking. He just couldn’t get comfortable. After days without bathing or a change of clothes, he couldn’t stop fidgeting, rubbing his stubbled face and scratching his scalp. When he could stand it no longer, he headed home for a hot shower.
When he pulled into the yard just before four o’clock in the morning, the house was in darkness save for the dim light shining from the kitchen window, a light Arden often left on for Axl. So as not to startle a woof out of the all-but-deaf dog, Scott let himself in via the rarely-used front door instead of the kitchen door. He crept into the downstairs bathroom, shed his clothes and stepped into the old tub. There was no getting around the pump coming on, but he kept the shower short and sweet. When he emerged, neither man nor beast was stirring. So he’d climbed the stairs, managing to avoid the creaky one at the top, and ghosted down the hall to his room for fresh clothes.
Mission accomplished, he prepared to head back out, leaving the household none the wiser that he’d been home at all. At the front door, he bent to pull on his boots, mentally congratulating himself on his cat-like stealth. He was virtually soundless. Practically invisible. A freakin’ ninja.
“Heading out again
so soon, Son?”
Okay, maybe not a ninja.
His uncle snapped the switch to his right, flooding the foyer in light. Scott blinked.
“Sorry, Uncle Arden. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He smiled ruefully. “Used to be I could sneak in and out at all hours without you knowing about it.”
“I always knew.”
“Really?”
Arden nodded. “I hate to tell you this, but you’re about as quiet as an armored tank going through a cymbal factory.”
Scott felt slightly deflated. “Well, you don’t know about all the times I—”
“Slipped out your bedroom window onto the roof, down the trellis, then hightailed it across the yard? Sure I do.”
Scott’s jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Your mother and I used to watch you go. We knew you weren’t out getting into trouble. We knew you just needed some alone time. There wasn’t anything to worry about—you were a good kid. Harkness isn’t exactly downtown Baghdad. You always needed that, Scott.”
“Needed what?”
Arden’s smile was wistful. “To prove you weren’t tied down. To connect with the loneliness you’ve held inside. The loneliness we just couldn’t reach.”
Scott looked at his uncle. Jesus, they’d known about it? That cold chill he’d never been able to dispel? And they’d understood?
He swallowed. “Thank you.”
Arden waved it off as though it were nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Scott knew he’d been damned lucky to land with Arden and Margaret Standish. Who knew what trouble he could have gotten into if he’d fallen into a less accepting home situation? Not that there had been a chance of that happening. After the accident that claimed his parents, Arden had flown in and taken care of him, taken care of everything.
For the first time, Scott noticed the old man was fully dressed, hair slicked back, and that black Goody comb he always kept in his shirt pocket present and accounted for. “Were you up when I came in?” If that were the case, it would go a long way toward restoring his confidence in his stealth skills.
